That Was Yesterday
by Kirjava Deamon
Summary: The accounts of an unknown person seeing one boy grow up. 'But that was yesterday. Today he's gone' (complete)


**_That Was Yesterday _**

_By Kirjava Deamon_

_~`~_

_Fell in love, told good-bye   
I swear to myself this will be my last heartbreak   
even sakura   
waves in the wind   
and soon will bloom the flower..._

_--Utada Hikaru, "Sakura Drops"_

**Summary: An unknown person's POV about seeing Draco Malfoy grow up. **

**A/N: Tell me if anything is not spelt right or grammatical problems. Thanks.**

~`~

Twice a year and on the random holidays, Hilda Blackhorn, the snack witch, saw the children of Hogwarts. Twice a year (not counting holidays) she had to straiten her shoulders and swore that no child would steal treats from under her eyes watch. Twice a year she had see the same pranks the children played, the gossip, and the "dramas" of Hogwarts students. 

  
Sure she had her favorites, the Weasleys not one of them. Those twins with their pranks and tricks, heaven forbid. She tended to like the quiet children, maybe slip them a small sweet. Like the darling first year Katie Bell. She's not so quiet anymore, she's seventeen now but years never change for Hilda. The only thing that changes are the faces. They always change.

But one child stood out from the mix, the only child that said "thank you" when given his food, the only child who gave her a tip, the only child who _cared_ about what she did. She'd watch him; only yesterday he came as a first year and today coming as a man of sixteen. So much like her darling Katie Bell, or her cute Blaise Zabini, she watched them all grow up. Her heart breaking time after time to see them leave that scarlet train and never come back. 

_But that way yesterday, their all teenagers now._

But he was different than her other's. She would mother him in ways his never did. His mother wouldn't even know he wasn't in the house, with her stravagaza of parties to go to and the shopping of robes that could feed a family of seven for a week's cost. His mother loved him, just not in other ways.

She'd chat with him and as a first year rub his white hair and make him smile with a butterscotch butterfly treat. He'd open the rapper a laugh slightly as the treat flow around him head in a glitter-like trail. As he grew, the laughter was harder to force, smiles fragile. His emotions would drain into a hole of nothingness. Hilda would worry, but he still tried his hardest to force a half smile for her, her second mummy. 

But he'd always be her little first year, with the pale hair and stone-grey eyes. 

At fifteen, his strong, innocent eyes started to harden. His hair always tamed, posture straight. He was becoming a man. Hilda hated to see this; he'd always been her favorite. That was also the year his father, his idol, a Death Eater, had to flee to the Scottish wilderness and his friend's parents also. His mother locked herself in her wing of the house and didn't leave, not even for his tears.

 _That was yesterday, today he was gone.   
  
_

She saw his graduate, with high honors, NEWTs, head boy and prefect badge, job offerings and few friends. She saw his as he took Dumbledore's hand and shake it, his eyes a flame. Just like his friend, that Weasley girl. Next year Hilda saw him again, at _Wealsey's _graduation. Her dark eyes aflame the same as his own stone ones.

_ But that was yesterday. _

Today she read in the paper he was the Minister of Magic. She cried, telling him how happy she was. He was the only one that came to see her of her special ones. Her treats and treasures. She was an elder witch now, rounding 70. But she was still his age at heart, that's why she loved him so much.

_But that was yesterday, today he's a man._

Today, she sipped her coffee, sitting on a bench by the scarlet train, looking at the kids of her past bringing their children proudly to the gateway of Hogwarts. Katie Bell, now Katie Wood bringing her son. Blaise Zabini bringing his fifteen year old son and daughter. Sally-Anne Perks, Sally-Anne Jennings now, bringing her nephew. 

And him tapping on her shoulder. She turned her ancient eyes towards him, he brought his daughter.

"This is Lyra, Hilda," he spoke, the same half smile he always gave her. The little girl with long white hair beamed and smile.

"She's lovely. Lyra, when I come with snacks I have a surprise for you," she replied. Her heart beating for the little girl, resembling so much her father with opposite smiles. 

"Take care of her," then he was gone into the mess of bodies.

_But that was yesterday. Today's he's dead.   
  
_

_And she will live on, as she always did._

She stood over his grave for the thousandth time, he hand in the twenty-three year old Lyra's. She was thousands of years old, playing her special one's lives how they should be in her mind. She stood over all their graves of her special ones; Hilda would drop a piece of their favorite treat on their names. Names on an endless wall.

_But that was yesterday._

_His grave is forgotten now, _

_He was Draco Malfoy, my precious one, my treasured one._


End file.
